Time Is Everything Rewound
by Hydriatus
Summary: The Kansai Rogues are at it again, with a new group of mercenaries to boot. But when one of them is left behind, things start to get complicated... OC fic
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** And Mk3 of this story is up. If ANYONE is still bothering to read this, your loyalty astounds me. Either that, or there aren't any good fic updates lately. If that's the case, then get writing people! As for those who are actually curious, I've rewritten this completely. So gone are the short chapters, Luke getting run over by a horde, the rumour incident etc. This is a brand new story christened with this name. Mk2 will forevermore be unfinished, and Mk 1 resides in the shadowy depths of my CPU. Special thanks to Dark Dragon Dave for proofreading!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Negima or its characters. I do own the Corsairs and Luke Mason. I do not own whatever else that pops up in this story which isn't my own creation. I do own this plotline plus the plotlines of Mk1 and Mk2 versions of this story.

* * *

**Time Is Everything**

**Chapter One**

**Battle Over Mahora**

_Tensions were always high between the __Kantō Magic Association_ _and the Kansai Magic Association. Under the jurisdiction of Dean Konoemon, the Kanto Association has long employed western style magic, but at the cost of strained diplomatic relations with its neighbouring mage organization, devoted to eastern magic usage. This has culminated in few outright clashes between them, one of which is the infamous Kyoto affair, carried out by radicals of the Kansai Association. Due to the swift resolution of the incident, little paid note to it afterwards, allowing the radical elements to retreat and plan. They were leaderless, their commander, Chigusa Amagasaki, having been captured by the Kansai during the Kyoto affair, and without any warriors of their own. The mercenaries Fate Averruncus and __Tsukuyomi had left soon after the disaster that was Kyoto, swearing never to work for their incompetent employers again. _

_Left in a precarious position, the Rogue Kansai resorted to others for aid. They were the Corsairs, a wandering band of fighters which accepted the contract offered to them by the organization. Their main task was to free Chigusa Amagasaki from her imprisonment in Mahora. They also had the optional objectives of capturing Konoka Konoe and teaching Negi Springfield the folly of acting against the Kansai Rogues. Few expected them to make much headway, for Mahora was the headquarters of the Kanto Magic Association, and it would take more than a mere bunch of mercenaries to succeed against its defenses. And so they were to be used as a distraction whilst the remains of the rebel forces themselves attempted to free their leader. _

_Yet in a stunning move, the Corsairs disregarded the warnings of their employers, and instead launched an all out attack on the academy. The forces of the Kanto Magic Association were mobilized to defend the students. But that is when the news reached. Under the cover of the attack, Chigusa Amagasaki and Konoka Konoe had been whisked away to the Corsairs' transport. Even as mages and demons warred around them, the mercenaries prepared to flee with their precious cargo, whilst a mage and his partner mounted a desperate rescue operation…_

* * *

Air rushing past, the two figures flew gracefully above the dark cloud of smoke, faces betraying their determination. Turning to each other, the pair nodded and dived down, through the choking haze and out the other side. The boy's pair of eyes widened in shock at the sight below, the other remaining cold and hard as the steel sword the figure was holding. The air was saturated with magic as the Kanto Magic Association battled with the demonic horde, spells and curses criss-crossing the air above Mahora. The normally fresh breeze reeked of war, of pain and suffering. Flames flickered from outstretched palms, jets to water hosed down the foe. And still they came on.

A blast of darkness struck a floating mage to the falling pair's left, hurling him away with shocking force. Still the duo fell, before sharply pulling up and flying towards their target, right through the crossfire. It was a swirling mess of combat, demons and mages flitting this way and that, shooting at each other with spells, or striking at one another with blades and claws. The boy barrel-rolled on his staff, avoiding a beam of light which traveled on and impacted on another demon's shield, whilst the winged swordsman next to him beat her wings and rose above a careening fireball. A scream tore through the noisome brawl as a pack of squabbling demons fell upon a mage from above whilst he fought. Silently, the girl struck out with her blade as she passed by, slicing through the ambushing creatures before vanishing with another beat of her wings.

A quick incantation, and the boy just ahead of her made is own contribution to the fight, ninety-nine arrows of light arcing from his miniature form and striking whatever demon got in the pair's way. Abruptly, a second long lull in the fighting revealed a direct path to their destination as the demons and mages fell back to their respective sides. Seizing their chance, the young teacher and his student hurled themselves down the rapidly diminishing avenue as both sides launched themselves back into the fray. Dodging and weaving between the magical projectiles, the rescue team closed the distance before a gang of demons noticed their progress and swooped down to intercept, screeching vengefully.

The first three had their wings snapped before they realized what was happening, dropping like stones, whilst one was beheaded with an elegant swipe of the sword. The rest of the demons paused in shock at the sheer speed of the offense, and the pair were already leaving them behind. Angrily, the remaining spirits turned to give chase before being swatted from the sky by a gigantic blast of kanka. Looking back, the boy caught sight of another teacher, this one much older and grinning at him as he fell through the combat, leaping from demon to demon to remain airborne, and striking out with blasts of pure energy at any large concentration of the aggressors. The younger teacher smiled to himself and nodded his thanks before pulling up his staff, trading speed for altitude, the swordsman matching his movement with powerful beats of her white wings.

"The ship is right ahead," communicated the boy to his partner over the sound of the fighting. The angel just nodded in answer, her fury restrained only by her training. A true warrior, never allowing her emotions to dictate the flow of battle-

"Break!" she cried out suddenly, eyes wide in shock. Trusting her completely, the child mage veered off course and shot away from her as the turrets lining the aircraft opened fire.

"Setsuna-san!" he cried out as the air between them was filled with bullets from sixteen hull mounted turrets. The sound was awful, like fabric being torn through sheer force, and the volume of bullets formed a solid wall between the two of them. Tightening his hold on his staff, the boy shot off directly at the aircraft, weaving and dodging the bursts of fire sent his way. As he passed over the massive, manta-like form of the ship, he incanted quickly and confidently, feeling the power surge through him. He reached out and unleashed the spell, nine-hundred and ninety-nine arrows of wind blasting from his hand and seeking out their targets in a heartbeat. They speared through the smooth hull of the craft, silencing the turrets instantaneously, but avoiding the main body and engines. Last thing he needed now was for the ship to explode or crash.

* * *

"Turrets have been disabled!" cried Navigator, wrestling furiously with the controls, trying to keep the aircraft steady as magical attacks battered it from all sides. He reached to the console on his left as it exploded, searing his hand. The man screamed as his flesh was burnt and his sleeve ignited.

"Out of my way!" snarled his co-pilot, hefting up the whimpering man in one clawed gauntlet and hurling him from the cockpit into the hold. "Get that taken care of," added the static-laced voice as the armoured figure sat down in the chair and began furiously tapping at a side screen whilst yanking the controls to the right with his other hand, throwing the ship into a sharp spin as he ignited the stabilisers. Yelps of surprise and shock met his ears as the passengers of the ship were hurled about as if in a whirlwind.

"Seek, the HELL are you doing?!" shouted one of the mercenaries from the back, hanging onto the weapons rack running down the middle of the ceiling, his black greatcoat swirling around him, one hand holding onto their hostage.

The cybernetic warrior was about to answer him when he noticed something from the view screen. He swore and kicked himself away from the controls, the chair screaming as the metal supports were ripped off and it was sent flying away from the cockpit along with the co-pilot, just ahead of the silver blade which stabbed through the screen, nearly skewering the draconic head.

"Return ojou-sama to me," whispered the girl crouching outside, ripping her sword free of the glass and striking it once more, shattering the flimsy barrier and dropping inside. Still on the floor, the draconic figure slammed the door release, and a steel bulkhead dropped into the portal, sealing off the cockpit as the girl stood up, her eyes blazing with fury, her stance relaxed, and the blade in her hand held at the ready. Snarling, the mechanical flipped onto its feet, talons digging into the metal beneath, eyes blazing as power surged through his systems. Twirling her blade, the swordsman raised her blade in preparation as the android assumed a hand-to-hand combat stance, legs apart, arms raised, tail lashing the ground behind him. The explosions surrounding the ship cast lunatic flashes over his grey armour, making the red trim appear as crimson as blood. And on his left shoulder, in small black stencil, was written "Kaminari Grand Industrial".

"Ojou-sama? Oh, I _see_! You're her guardian, Setsuna Sakurazaki. A sword maiden of the Shinmei-ryu," he finished with a sneer, flexing his glinting claws. The winged warrior facing him did not respond, but glared at him with a look that could incinerate the soul. Yet the machine just shrugged it off. When one had been glared by an expert (and if a hacked-off demon host wasn't, God only knew what was), such petty looks became minor annoyances. Silently, Setsuna charged at the war machine. Grinning savagely, he leapt forwards; blocking the slash she threw his way with his forearm, and swung up his leg. The half-demon sprang back nimbly towards the broken view screen, allowing the machine's leg to swing past and slam into the wall, leaving behind a noticeable dent.

Like a striking serpent, Setsuna struck, stabbing the blade into the foot and on through, embedding her sword in the wall. There was a hiss of steam and a jagged gauntlet struck her in the face, hurling her back. She crashed through the jagged remains of the screen, the broken shards scratching her pale skin, and she hit the smooth surface of the craft's hull before skidding to a stop. She looked up coldly, raising a hand to wipe away the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

A primeval roar shook the air as the Corsair burst from the ruined cockpit, shredding his way to the surface of the ship. In one claw he held Setsuna's sword, and he crouched down, slamming his other hand onto the smooth surface they were standing on, bracing himself. "Let's see how well you do against your precious blade," he growled coldly.

"Don't fear the reaper," she responded in kind.

* * *

Watching down from above, the boy mage noted Setsuna's swift and efficient strike at the enemy's controls. That should immobilise the vessel long enough for them to rescue Konoka. Quickly he withdrew her pactio card from within his robe, and closed his eyes, quietly muttering an incantation. Immaterial tendrils of magic spread out, enveloping the stricken aircraft below, searching the metal confines.

_There!_

Opening his eyes, he smiled briefly before diving down, uttering another spell.

* * *

_Warning, cabin depressurised. Warning, cabin depressurized…_

"Great…" muttered the youth in the black jacket to himself, running to the hanger whilst balancing the bound girl in his arms. Whilst the contract had not specified the condition she was meant to be in upon their return, it kinda made sense that since the employers wanted her alive, they wanted her in perfect condition. And so it was only natural to try to keep her out of harms way. Of course, her struggles didn't help matters much, but that wasn't important. Silently cursing, he threw himself into a slide and ducked beneath another closing bulkhead into the access corridor. He grinned victoriously at his stylish manoeuvre, though the damned girl in his arms was still struggling. At that moment in time, he was seriously tempted to leave her there. Sure she'd get rescued and secondary objective beta would go to hell, but who cared? They'd taken care of the primary objective! Everything else was just a bonus. Something he could live without!

That's when the ceiling exploded, and the corridor was enshrouded in steam from the ruptured pipes. Springing back nimbly to avoid any dislodged debris, the boy exclaimed slightly in surprise as a dark shape materialised in front of him.

"Release Konoka-san!" demanded the figure. Ok, screw objective beta!

"Sure," answered the Corsair, throwing the girl at the intruder before leaping after her.

The shadowy being seemed taken aback as he caught the inheritor of the Kanto Magic Association, still keeping a hold on his staff, but totally powerless to prevent the mercenary from leaping over him and running down the remains of the corridor to safety.

"You gotta be bolder than that to capture the elusive Muse!" called back the Corsair, sliding past a closing steel door.

Glaring after the cowardly mage, Negi wrestled with his emotions before concern for Konoka won over the urge to make the Corsairs suffer for their actions. He looked down at his student, suddenly realising how much she weighed. Quickly setting her down, he undid her bonds, and allowed her to tear the gag off her mouth before embracing him in a ferocious hug.

"Thank you Negi-kun! You were so heroic! Especially framed by that steam! It was like a dream, with you as my knight and –"

"K-Konoka-chan, I…c-can't breathe!" the child mage managed to gasp out.

"Oh! Sorry Negi-kun!" she apologized, releasing her cute homeroom teacher, allowing him to fill his lungs with air. He looked up at her and smiled slightly before answering.

"It's ok. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. They were actually rather nice for kidnappers. I got my own room and everything. They didn't try any of that perverse stuff like that lady in Kyoto-"

"Alright! No need to go further!" interrupted Negi quickly, blushing slightly at the memory. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

His student clapped her hands together, oblivious as always to the gravity of the situation. "Ah, I get to fly with Negi-kun! This day is turning out so fun!"

* * *

"Where's the girl, Muse?" queried the child, looking up at him, curiously peering at him with her large brown eyes.

"Boarders. Rescued. Her," made out the older teen in between gasps before yelping in pain as the small girl whacked him on the head with the flat of her blade.

"Idiot! You've lost our bonus!"

"So what?! So you won't get another little doll-" he started before being shut up by a kick in the shins. "Oh you stinking little…"

Further argument was interrupted rather spectacularly by the hangar roof caving in and Seeker crashing into the floor. The two humans looked at each other before running and skating back down the ramp towards their fallen comrade.

"Seek! You ok?" asked Muse, sliding to a halt near the machines head whilst the girl hovered nearby, blade drawn. No answer came. Sharing a glance, the pair leaned in before cursing in unison. Seeker was heavily damaged, as if he'd been pushed under a bulldozer. His lower jaw was missing, his armour was covered in rends and tears and one eye was sparking.

"I'll take that as a no," said Muse before being punched in the face by the wounded machine. "Aw son of a bitch!" he swore, clutching his broken nose. "Sorry Maiden," he apologised to the girl. There was a hiss of static as the wounded war machine tried to insult the cocky musician, struggling up.

"Come on, lets go!" buzzed the black haired girl, spinning on her skates. "We can't lose two Corsairs in one mission!"

Hefting up the two tonne machine, Muse staggered back to the escape craft, Maiden skating around him protectively. She had a point. Bad enough to have to leave behind Clockwork, but to lose Seeker too? The whole ship shuddered as the clambered aboard their remaining avenue of escape, an old HinD helicopter gunship.

"Everyone here?" called out Muse, dumping the hissing machine in the corner, leaving the girl to tie it down.

Y-yeah," answered their Navigator, nursing his burnt hand sullenly, jerking his head to indicate the last remaining Corsair sitting in the corner, chanting quietly to himself.

"Who the hell are you people?!" demanded Chigusa Amagasaki, sitting between the muttering man and the Navigator, looking around angrily. None of the mercenaries deigned to answer her. Speaking to her wasn't in the contract after all. "Answer me!"

They ignored her as Muse ran into the cockpit and engaged the engine.

* * *

"Ojou-sama!" greeted the angel, swooping down to meet them as they rose from the wrecked aircraft.

"Setsuna-chan! You're here too?" cried Konoka happily, reaching out and embracing her long time friend and protector, nearly falling off Negi's staff as she did so. Negi sighed to himself at his roommates childish antics, half turning his head to look back at the crippled manta-like plane, wobbling slightly now, smoke billowing from the cockpit where Setsuna had broken in and destroyed pretty much everything in reach.

"Negi-kun, I see you have Konoka-san," said Gandolfini, standing on a floating seal. The ten year old nodded at his fellow teacher. "Good. Take her back down. We'll clean up the remains of this mess."

Startled, Negi and his students glanced about, noticing the lack of demons in the air. And the force of mages still battle-worthy. "Of course Gandolfini-sensei," answered Negi dropping back down to the Academy. He'd have to land somewhere in the woods to avoid breaking that cameo spell the mage defence had erected around the entire aerial battle, keeping those below ignorant of what was occurring.

Gandolfini watched the children sink away, smiling slightly as he pushed up his sunglasses. They were good, of that there was no doubt. Who knew what they would be able to do in several years…but that was some time off. In the meantime…

"Attack."

* * *

Silently, the stealthed HinD took off, peeling away from the rapidly descending _Relentless_. Maiden pressed her nose against the window, watching sadly as the Manta-class air dreadnought died, magic attacks tearing through its majestic form. The smooth hull splintered and cracked under the onslaught as the Corsairs fled, their mission fulfilled. With a resounding flash and deafening blast, the ship exploded into a sphere of pure energy, dissipating almost immediately, leaving nothing behind but a stench of metal on the air. By then the mercenaries, with Chigusa Amagasaki were gone.

Except one.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you to the staunch loyalists out there who could bring themselves to read this thing one more time. You guys and girls are the reason I keep writing!

Once more, thanks to DarkDragonDave for proofreading!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Innocence Proves Nothing**

_There are many Orders of knight in the mage world, and some orders can only be considered knights in name only. Whilst it is true that many Orders are more in line with the stereotypical image of gallantry and justice, there are those who, whilst believing in the same cause, employ far darker means. And the most infamous Order is that of the Dark Hunters, otherwise known as the Inquisition. _

* * *

"Ah, Konoka, it's good to see you safe and sound," greeted the dean, stroking his majestic beard and gazing approvingly at the trio in front of him. It was now midday, barely two hours after the entire incident, and life in the academy went on as normal. Only the mages directly involved had any idea of what had occurred, the colossal camo-shield spell blanketing the Academy hiding the fighting above from the mundane people below.

"Aw, thanks grandfather," replied his relation, smiling happily as if nothing had happened. That was one of her strengths, her endless optimism. Next to her, the teacher, Negi Springfield, was glancing about nervously, unsure whether he was going to be praised or punished. Praised, for rescuing his student, or punished for allowing her to be kidnapped in the first place. His answer was swift in coming.

"Negi-sensei, whilst it is true that my dear granddaughter was stolen from us whilst under your protection, a thorough review of the circumstances has established that it was through no fault of your own. Therefore I can only commend you for your bold and decisive action in concert with Sakurazaki-san, and take appropriate steps," said the elderly Konoe with a familiar glint in his eye. Unsure how to react, Negi just bowed his head and stayed silent as his superior turned to the final person standing before him.

"Sakurazaki-san, you have done me great service. You have kept your oath of protecting Konoka and brought honour to yourself and the Shinmei-Ryu school. Your loyalty shall be justly rewarded, especially for being instrumental in the return of my granddaughter." The sword maiden being addressed just inclined her head respectfully but also remained silent, emotionally drained.

The dean took a moment to look at the trio one more time, feeling nothing but pride. "Very well then, you may go." The three younglings quietly nodded to signify understanding and left quickly. As they reached the door it opened, and another figure entered the study. Sparing the teens not even a glance it swept into the room like s spectre.

Closing the door behind them, Konoka turned to her teacher. "Negi-kun? Is something wrong?"

"No. It's nothing Konoka-chan. Let's go home."

Back in the dean's office, the mood had drastically changed. The head of the Kanto Magic Association was frowning disapprovingly at his latest visitor. The man was hidden completely by the cloak wrapped around him, and the hood obscured his features. The moment he had entered, the temperature in the room had plummeted, frost forming on the windows, and Dean Konoe could see his breath steaming in front of him. Suppressing his distaste, the elderly mage decided to adopt a calm yet firm approach. "Lord Cortez, your arrival seems to-"

"Dean Konoemon Konoe, I am here under the jurisdiction of the Inquisition. You are to hand over your captive to me," interrupted the towering man coldly, looking up at the dean, two crystal blue eyes coldly glaring.

Suppressing a shiver and biting back a retort, he simply feigned ignorance. "Captive, Lord Cortez? I do not know what you mean."

The figure of the Inquisitor Lord, seven feet tall and four feet wide at the shoulders, stiffened. The man growled slightly as the temperature in the room fell further, mirroring his displeasure. A sibilant hiss escaped the man's lips, and the dean shuddered. "Beware, Konoemon. My respect for your position as head of the Kanto Magic Association is only a courtesy. One which I can revoke as I see fit. Remember that before jesting with me."

"Y-yes, of course Lord Cortez," whispered the dean, feeling the cold gnawing at him. A simple enough trick, but one that could not be countered. Not when the spell used the Inquisitorial Seal as a conduit.

"Good. Then let's try again shall we? Where is your captive?"

"I'll send for him. He'll be here within the next five minutes," answered the dean, using every ounce of his self control not to snarl at the visitor. The Inquisitor decided to let it slide, simply inclining his head in acknowledgement. "Very well then. I can wait five minutes."

* * *

"Well, another eventful day," sighed Negi, collapsing onto the sofa.

"Yes," beamed Konoka, going into the kitchen to prepare dinner. "Are you going to stay Se-chan?" she called.

"I will ojou-sama," answered her guardian, gazing out the window, her sword still by her side. "Where's Asuna-san?" she queried thoughtfully, turning to her teacher.

Negi's eyes flew open. "I don't know. Konoka-san, wasn't she with you?" he asked, standing up and walking over to the doorway, leaning into the kitchen.

The cheerful girl was busy stirring something in a pot, but she turned and smiled at her roommate. "Yep. But we got separated after I was taken so…" she began, before being interrupted by a loud bang as the door was thrown boldly open and Asuna strode in angrily, wasting no time in grabbing Negi by the collar and shaking him vigorously.

"What the hell was that you brat?! You could've gotten yourself killed!" she shouted at him angrily, glaring ferociously into his eyes. The ten year old, flopping in her arms, gulped slightly and tried to speak before being cut off by another bout of angry shaking. "No! No excuses! None of that student-teacher stuff! You could've gotten yourself killed, face it!" she snarled, finally dropping him. "Think about how we'd feel if you got hurt for once!" she finished, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. There was a long silence after that.

"She took that rather well," said Setsuna eventually in her monotonous voice, as Konoka shook her head sadly, her head protruding from the kitchen to see what was going on. Negi just remained silent as he stood up and went back to the sofa, collapsing into it again. _Yep, another eventful day._

* * *

"Those…_bastards_!" growled the man through clenched teeth. "How the hell did they manage it?! It's the headquarters of the Kanto Magic Association! And they just walked in and got her?!"

"Well, not quite. Apparently they lost one of their number, so they're actually initiating the Insurance clause," said another, idly flipping through a magic tome. "That's another…half-million."

"Yen?" asked the first man, looking at his companion.

"No, dollars."

"Hmph. Arrogant scum. I'll be glad once we can get rid of them," he replied, looking away.

"Perhaps you will, but we won't be getting rid of them anytime soon," declared a female voice. Both men looked up as the newcomer approached them, smiling wickedly.

"Chigusa," they greeted in unison, bowing their heads as they stood up. "Good to see you again," added the second man, snapping his book shut.

The woman nodded her acknowledgement before speaking again. "Anyway, despite their unorthodox methods, the Corsairs are efficient and achieve their goals. They did get me out after all."

"But…they failed their secondary objectives!" pointed out the first man desperately. _No, not more mercenaries, please! _

Chigusa just smirked at him. "No ones perfect. Your attempts never even reached the Academy!"

That shut him up pretty quickly. Satisfied wit quelling that voice of dissent, the head of the Kansai Rogues continued. "They however managed to successfully extract me. And with a small, well equipped team at that. Seeing as we are currently low on members, I believe employing them is in our best interest."

"Chigusa, whilst I do not fault your reasoning, I must say there is one issue you haven't considered," said the man with the book in a bored voice.

"What?"

"Their price tag. They're true professionals, they'll charge you for everything. Repairs, ammunition, you name it," he said, his companion nodding energetically. "For the last mission alone they charged us for the following," he added, handing over a long list. Chigusa quickly scanned it.

Fuel (Sixty-eight hundred thousand gallons of diesel). ammunition (658 million M61 Vulcan rounds and three litres of gasoline), medical expenses (minor wounds, major refit and overhaul), nature of mission (distraction, possibly suicidal), number of operatives involved (five), employer limitation (Kanto Magic Association no longer a viable employer), replacement (one manta-class air dreadnought (_the hell?_) and assorted weaponry), insurance (one operative missing, one heavily wounded), main objective achieved, secondary's failed (some deductions), miscellaneous (five guitar strings, a whetstone, one map, a compass, five hundred takeaways, an electrical bill, three live chickens, one set of coloured chalk and one tub of metal polish) and tax were all listed and numbered, leading to a grand total of…

Chigusa paled slightly, but retained her composure. "We cannot fault their results. Pay them."

"But-"

"Do it. We cannot antagonise them further. They've already lost one of their members, and are bound to hold us responsible."

* * *

"Dean?" asked Takamichi, looking at his boss for help. He wasn't about to get any. The old man just shook his head. The teacher bit back a scathing comment and turned to the cloaked figure. "What will you do with him?" he asked, looking straight into the darkness of the hood.

"That is not for you to know," it replied, each word dead and cold as it gestured for the prisoner to step into the vehicle. Takamichi looked at the mercenary. Yet another child. The Kansai Rogues must be doing this on purpose, sending such younglings against them. The youth was in his late teens, but still a boy. A boy who had seen and endured too much to be sure. The teacher looked away as the blonde youth silently, his face expressionless, marched down the steps and towards the back of the large truck. He paused slightly and glanced at the sky, as if it would be his last chance to do so. Despite himself, Takahata shivered. Knowing the Inquisition, that was a distinct possibility.

The cloaked Inquisitor Lord turned to the dean and spoke. "Thank you for your co-operation Dean Konoe. We shall deal with this matter fully. If anything regarding you, your kin, or Mahora turns up in our…investigation, we shall let you know."

The elderly man no longer bothered to hide his displeasure, openly hostility on his face. "Thank you very much lord Cortez," he hissed through clenched teeth. The Inquisitor just smirked to himself before turning away and walking down to the transport himself. The mercenary was already loaded, and he could see Baristan waiting. A youthful man, slender and athletic, many would try to steal his heart. If he had one left to steal that is. Lord Cortez smiled coldly to himself as his Chief Interrogator turned to him.

"So what about this one?"

"You may begin immediately. But remember, I want him alive when we reach Magica Munda."

"Alive? That is all?"

Lord Cortez thought on that for a second. "Yes, alive will do nicely. Who's with you?"

"Janst," answered the torturer, jerking his thumb to the cab of the truck. "He'll be driving."

"Alright. I shall await your arrival," replied the tall mage, an icy mist forming about him before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared, leaving nothing behind. Baristan smiled. Alive…but not unspoiled. He cast one look at the two civilians still watching the transport and flicked them a thumbs up. The old geezer seemed really pissed, and his friend wasn't exactly bright and cheery either. He turned from them and boarded the vehicle, the doors sliding shut behind him. As if he cared about those fools! Baristan idly brushed a lock of brown hair from his eyes and grinned sadistically at the young man in front of him as he lifted the scalpel. "Time for some fun! And remember, fear not the reaper!"

The blonde did not react at all. Few were like that, but sooner or later, he'd break, and he'd cry and scream. They all did. It would be interesting to see how long this one held out…

* * *

"Say, Negi-kun?" queried his roommate suddenly, looking up from her plate into his weary eyes. "What about Kaede-san? Is she alright?"

Negi sighed. He considered lying to her, but as she deserved the truth. "She's still unconscious. Seruhiko got her to the infirmary and she's resting, but we're not sure how long she'll stay like that."

"I heard she fought well," nodded Setsuna, politely sipping her drink, her gaze constantly shifting around the room as if another kidnapping was likely to commence in a heartbeat. "They're saying she was hit by a car from what I've heard." Her precious ojou-sama paled slightly as she continued. "But she's stable. The twins went to go see her a couple of minutes ago."

""Maybe we should go to," ventured Konoka, but being silenced by Setsuna, who just shook her head.

"We cannot risk you being taken again Ojou-sama. Until all this quietens down, I'm afraid I cannot let you expose yourself."

"Awwww, Se-chan!"

"Hmmm, a challenge worthy of my skill," mused Baristan, twirling the ether scalpel in his delicate hand, the other stroking his chin as he regarded the youth. The boy was good, retreating from the conscious world to better withstand pain. And though he was well within his rights, the Interrogator wasn't one for bodily harm. No, ether blades were much more effective. The ethereal edges passed harmlessly through flesh but set the nerves beneath on fire. The kid remained stubbornly silent, rendering the silence charm placed on the cell useless. But one never knew when he could break, and he did not want Janst to be pulled over and have to explain why shrieks and screams were originating from his truck.

Unknown to him, the Corsair left to his less-than-tender mercies had already broken. His mind had shattered under the physical onslaught, his being fragmenting into glittering shards of glass which whirled around his head, fighting amongst themselves. Now, he was rage incarnate, now dejection, now rebellion, now indifferent, now fearful, and so on. His mind spun and clattered like a dice, each face another personality warring for dominance of this broken man. And soon, the die would be cast.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Once more into the fray! Thank you all for the positive feedback so far! Hopefully I'll be able to maintain your interest until the bitter end!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Fateful Coincidence**

_Fate toys with our lives. Such is our lot I suppose. Her sister, Destiny, is not much help either. And don't get me started on Luck. Let's leave it at the fact that all three are manipulative bitches that love screwing up our lives. _

* * *

The Narutaki twins were close to tears. They stood there, alone, watching their friend and mentor breathing. Just breathing. No movement, no noise except the constant beeping of the heart monitor. The doctor supervising the pair felt a pang of guilt for being unable to do anything more to speed the girl's recovery. He looked at the two twins, tears visible in their eyes, and suppressed a mournful cry. The girl in the room, a Kaede Nagase, was fine, but still unconscious. They were wondering if that is how she would stay forever. It would be a small price to pay for such a miracle. From her wounds, the girl must have been struck by a truck of some kind. The young doctor looked away, still inexperienced when dealing with such cases, hiding his anger at his own weakness from the two smaller girls.

And alone in the ward, Kaede dreamed.

* * *

"Konoka-dono, run," she said calmly, hurling her shuriken at the figure. The boy remained expressionless as he twirled on his foot, the weapon flying past him before arcing into the sky and flying back to the kunoichi's hand. Her classmate had already began to run, away from the danger, realizing that this was something beyond her ability to influence.

The kunoichi jumped up and caught her shuriken, spinning along with the momentum before throwing it again at the youth. Her opponent lashed out with his whip of gold chain, entangling the throwing star and crashing it into the ground blades first, where it stuck fast.

"You should run too," he advised, yanking the chain back to his arm and launching himself at her. Kaede stood her ground until he was five feet away, and leapt backwards, into the air, hurling seven kunai at her attacker. He leant aside, only one finding its target, striking into the boy's leg. A look of pain and annoyance clouded his features momentarily as he looked up at her, throwing his arms up and sending a gold and a silver chain to wrap around her ankles, before viciously pulling her down and slamming her into the ground.

Before she could get back up, he pounced on her, driving his fist into her mid-riff, her breath exploding from her lungs. She coughed up blood as he drove another fist into her stomach before she managed to smash her fist into the side of his head, dazing him momentarily. Grabbing her chance, she curled up and kicked out, sending the youth into the air. Kaede quickly rolled to the side as her opponent's twin pocket watches struck the place she had been a moment before, the chains they were attached to glinting in the sunlight.

Struggling up to her feet, a hand clutching her side, she glared at the boy as he landed softly some distance away, the chains and watches retracting into his sleeves.

"W-who are you, de gozaru?" asked the ninja, blood trickling from her mouth.

"Call me Clockwork," said the blonde youth emotionlessly, impassively staring into Kaede's eyes until her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, weak from blood loss.

"You caught me off-guard, de gozaru," she said weakly, losing consciousness. "It won't happen again."

Clockwork looked at her in surprise, and nodded once before darkness claimed her.

* * *

Tapping a long forgotten tune on the dashboard, Janst looked around, bored as hell. Not even the almighty Inquisition was safe from this, the rush hour traffic. Especially when keeping a low profile. The dark skinned man shivered slightly, his mind conjuring horrific images of what was happening in the cell behind him, where Baristan was plying his bloody trade. He shook off his reservations. As member of an Inquisitorial retinue, he had to become inured to such nightmares. Only then would he start to become one himself. But somewhere, deep down, he felt a pang of sympathy for the teenager in the back as the flow of traffic eased up and he pressed the accelerator.

* * *

Clockwork stood silently on a floating shard of rock, surrounded by himself. His shattered mindscape stretched out in all directions, fragments of memory and emotion, long gone and forgotten, now brought into sharp focus.

"Weakling," snorted a copy of him, a long gash running down the left side of his face. "Captured by the Inquisition. Pathetic."

"Do not be troubled. The Inquisition is mighty, and not even all the Corsairs would have prevailed against them," comforted another Clockwork, this one having a silver hue to his skin.

"Kill! Kill! KILL!" frothed the figure in the straight-jacket.

"Bide your time, let them take you to their headquarters, and then strike!" advised a heavily scarred youth.

Clockwork sighed and tried unsuccessfully to blot out the conflicting cacophony of his inner voices. The torturer was good. His mind had broken, literally, and now he stood in this desolation surrounded by fragments of himself. A fitting hell.

But there was one thing missing from all this. Where was Kharthisan?

* * *

Kharistan, half of Clockwork, the demon the youth was bound to, was currently glaring coldly with his jet black eyes at the torturer. The man took a step back, horrified as he sat up, the steel restraints, reinforced with Inquisitorial magic, snapped pathetically.

"Demon host!" hissed the Chief Interrogator, wide eyed. The creature in front of him just grinned savagely before grabbing him by the throat and boldly throwing him across the cell into the wall leading to the driver's cabin. He crashed face first and slid to the floor, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Still grinning, eyes blazing with black fire, Kharistan roared as hundreds of chains blossomed from his body, shooting out in all directions, tearing through the reinforced cell as if it was paper. "Fear not the reaper," smirked the demon, echoing the torturer's previous words.

Three of the snake like appendages broke into the cabin, much to Janst's shock, and lashed out in all directions. In an attempt to shield himself, the warrior of the Dark Continent let go of the wheel and hid his face form the lashing tendrils. The one of the iron chins snagged on the wheel and yanked it hard to the right. There was a single lurch, and for a moment, all of the passengers in the vehicle felt as if they weighed nothing at all before they crashed.

* * *

"Let's go!" said Konoka, determination blazing in her eyes. Never the most aggressive of his students, but Negi had to admit that once she set her mind to something, Konoka was sure to achieve it sooner or later. And she did have a point too.

"I understand your willingness to go, but no Ojou-sama," replied Setsuna, a hint of sadness at restraining her precious friend, yet remaining firm.

"But Se-chan! I owe it to her!" said Konoka tearfully, looking up at her protector with the best puppy-eyes she could manage. Negi looked away, silently glad he wasn't the one receiving that look.

Setsuna's training came through, allowing her to withstand approximately 3.2 seconds before caving. "Very well, but I insist on adequate safety measures first Ojou-sama."

"We'll take Negi along!" said the child's roommate, grabbing him by the arm and hugging him tightly. "He saved me once, so he can do so again if needs be." For a brief second, a look of annoyance flashed over the half-demon's face before she regained her composure and nodded stiffly. "I'm sure he's worried about her too!"

Negi felt a wave of guilt pass over him. He hadn't felt anything actually. He'd been so pre-occupied and weary he'd completely forgotten about checking up on his class in the aftermath! Silently, he swore to himself to never suffer such a moment of laxity again. "Of course, let's go see her, and check up on the others too."

* * *

"She's going to be fine, right?" asked the girl, Fuka, face pressed against the glass, staring into the ward. The doctor looked up in surprise. It was the first time she'd spoken in over an hour.

"Well, she's fine now," he answered, fidgeting slightly. Briefly he wondered if the message had been passed onto next of kin yet.

"But she's still unconscious," sobbed the other twin, Fumika silently, tears streaming down her face. The doctor had no experience in dealing with grief-stricken relatives, or children for that matter. He simply looked at her sadly, lost for words. That's when the ward doors opened. He looked up, as did the twins, all in hope, but that hope was soon dashed when they saw it was another unfortunate, brought to lie in the room. The young doctor nearly broke down when he saw it was another teenager. _Dear God in heaven, why the young? Why? _

The looked about sixteen, with short blonde hair. His breathing was steady, but his torso was wrapped in bandages. The young doctor gently rasped on the glass, and one of the nurses who had wheeled the lad in came over.

"What happened to him?" asked the man, indicating the boy.

"Traffic collision. Pretty bad too. The vehicle burst into flames seconds after he crawled out and collapsed. Apparently there were two others with him, but they fled before the police got there."

"Joy-riders?" he asked, eyeing the blonde with sudden suspicion.

"Unlikely," replied he nurse, before moving off to attend other tasks.

The doctor looked at the boy again, before his gaze moved to the left, onto the girl. Now there were two. He chewed his lip thoughtfully as somewhere a clock chimed quietly. It was beginning to get late. Turning from the ward, he glanced at the twins, still staring forlornly at their friend. "Do you wish to stay here all night?" he asked politely.

The small girls looked at him with a mixture of sadness and thankfulness as they nodded in unison.

"You will have to phone your guardians to tell them where you are though."

The twins looked at each other, then back at Kaede, before Fuka spoke. "We'll call our dorm, is that good enough?"

"Of course," smiled the doctor, leading the pair away with a last look at the ward.

Silence and darkness settled in the white-washed room, before Clockwork cracked a brown eye open. Satisfied, he sat up, grimacing slightly at the pain in his limbs and chest as he started to rub feeling back into his extremities.

_Kharistan did a good job. Got us out of a tight spot and no mistake_ said one of the voices suddenly.

_Shut up. That demon is trouble. I say we get rid of him at next available opportunity! _

_And why should we listen to you? _asked a third voice.

_You can stay quiet, he knows what's best_ chipped in the fourth.

_Taking his side are we? Traitor! _spat the first.

Clockwork closed his eyes and slapped the side of his head viciously, sending his personalities on another crash course through the remains of his mind. He was going to need to fix this warped mind of his and soon. Hopefully, Chaplain had some kind of potion or enchantment to cure him of this. Speaking of which…

He reached into his mouth, and relaxed his neck muscles, dislodging a tiny phial held in the lining of his throat. Still lacking emotion, he broke the wax seal and tipped a few drops onto his palm before lapping them up, feeling new strength return to his body before the delayed pain hit. He bit down in shock, severing the tip of his tongue. He spat it out with a gobbet of blood in disgust.

_Charming _said voice one.

_To be sure_ agreed the third.

_Waste not your blood. Blood is the lifeline, the currency of the soul! _There was the second.

The inner voices were beginning to become really annoying, the blonde thought to himself, wiping away the blood now trickling from his mouth as he swung himself off the bed and stood up groggily. Luck was with him once more. They'd left his clothes on. That saved him the bother of having to find them. Impassively he looked around the darkened room, before his eyes fell upon the other occupant.

_And Luck spits in our face again._

_Isn't that…?_

_Yes. _

_Aw shit. We're in trouble. _

Silently, Clockwork glided over to her bedside, and looked down on her like Death itself. Her breathing was regular, and there was sweat on her brow.

_She dreams. She is weak. Kill her now. _

_Kill. Kill. KILL! _

_Aw great, look what you did now! Shut up! _

_KILL! _

_We fought her once! That is why we were captured! Kill her now, exact vengeance! _

_We promised_ whispered a distant voice weakly, barely audible.

_WHAT?! _roared the others in unison.

_We promised. There would be a reckoning between us both, but in a fair fight. None of this sulking and slaying in the dark like the Inquisition. _

_Ok, since when the hell do we have a nice side? Kick this pip-squeak outta here! _

Clockwork reached out and placed a hand on the girl's neck, feeling her pulse beat beneath his fingers. There was a tumult in his mind as the voices cried out, urging him to clench his fist and crush her fragile neck, to kill her. But still one voice fought on against the odds. Spare her, it whispered in the face of the storm. Fight her when all is fair and equal. Even mercenaries have honour.

It was one against six. Pity for them this wasn't a democracy. He removed his hand from her tender neck, glancing at it as he did so, the memory of the touch lingering. He swiftly brought the phial closer to her face, and carefully dropped a couple of drops of the liquid onto her lips, watching them run into her mouth. His task done, he turned away, hiding the phial deep within his jacket as the girl stirred slightly, the potion doing its work. Being human, she'd be spared the delayed pain. One of the mercies of magic.

Clockwork flipped his golden watch into his hand, flicking it open with practised precision, sparing a glance before snapping it shut and retracting it into his sleeve. Ten minutes past eleven. Twelve hours exactly since he'd first set foot in Mahora. Eight hours since the withdraw order.

"Why are you here de gozaru?" asked a weak voice behind him, gaining strength with every syllable.

He half turned his head, his body still in shadow. But the ninja obviously knew it was him. The boy remained silent as she looked at him, her face as blank as his own. The moment of silence stretched out, until Kaede spoke again. "Come to finish me off de gozaru?" The youth shook his head negative, turning to leave. "Then why?" The blonde paused for a moment, considering his answer. Then he just shrugged and walked away, leaving behind a confused Kaede. She stared after him until he vanished into the darkness, when suddenly the lights came on, dazzling her. Blinking rapidly to accustom her eyes, she looked around, before something flew into her, throwing her back into the bed she was on.

"Kaede-nee-san!" cried the twins in unison in utter joy as their roommate recognized them and smiled. The young doctor simply started at the trio, feeling a twinge of happiness for the happy resolution to this case. The small smile on his face evaporated when he saw the other occupant of the room was missing.

"What happened to the other?" he asked, looking at the girl in panic. The twins ignored this, still hugging their roommate.

The recovered girl just looked at him without expression. "What other?"

* * *

"You let him go," stated Cortez flatly. Janst and Baristan both shuddered in the presence of their Lord. The ghostly apparition of the towering Inquisitor was made only more ominous by its slight transparency. "I hope you have something to make up for this blunder?"

"Nobody knows we were involved," offered Janst quickly. "The vehicle was destroyed, along with everything that bore our emblem."

Cortez seemed to think about this. "Very well Janst, your life remains your own, but you shall need to undertake an act of penitence."

"Thank you Lord!"

"Baristan?"

"The boy…he is a demon host," explained the interrogator, not daring to look up at his master's face. But as soon as the words left his mouth, the water of the lake surrounding the flecting form of the Inquisitor Lord froze instantaneously. He took a deep breath and held it, fearing the worst.

"A…demon host you say?" whispered Cortez, the menace in the voice deafening the two members of his retinue. Stiffly, Baristan nodded, still staring intently at the ground. "Then your life is yours as well. But as an act of penitence, I order you both to find this monster, and mark him."

"M-mark him, sire?" stuttered Janst.

"Yes," replied their Lord before disappearing like morning mist. The two servants sagged in relief, tears flowing freely down their faces. They had lived.

* * *

It was quiet, dark, and damp. But they'd been through worse, so they couldn't complain. In one corner, Muse was idly plucking notes on his guitar, a sorrowful melody floating in the air whilst Maiden sat next to him, dozing, head resting on his shoulder. Chaplin was reading from a tome, and Navigator was just staring at his damaged hand.

"So, now what?" asked Muse, seemingly into thin air.

"No idea," whispered Navigator, flexing his injured hand.

"Clockwork can take care of himself. And if he can't, its none of our business," said Chaplain, not looking up from the book of forbidden knowledge he was reading for the umpteenth time.

"We know that. I was referring to our contract with the Rogues," countered Muse. "Do we accept long term employment?"

"We haven't got anything else to do, and the contract doesn't limit us from other jobs. Might as well," shrugged the mage, not bothering to look up. "How's Hunter?" he asked as an afterthought.

Navigator took a moment to glance at the screen to his left. "Still in Russia. Having a jolly good time too from the sounds of it. He should be back within the week though."

"Good. We need to get our squad number back," nodded Muse, looking at the ceiling. "Who knows what the next mission might throw at us."

"Nothing you can't handle," commented Chigusa, walking into the pool of light. The Corsairs spared her a look and a nod before resuming their idleness. Being attentive and respectful wasn't in the contract. That cost extra. "I have a job for you. Simple and quick, easy money as far as you are concerned."

"Transport?" guessed Navigator. Chigusa shook her head.

"Assassination?" queried Chaplin.

"She said simple you old man," countered Muse. "Bodyguard?"

"No. Hack," she said, looking past the light into the darkness were sparks were twirling. The other Corsairs followed her gaze, fully understanding what she required.

"He'll be ready in three days. That guardian punished him severely," the leader of the Rogues was informed by Navigator. She nodded in understanding.

"Three days it is then." She considered adding a threat, but dismissed the thought as foolishness. These were professionals, they had their pride. That was driving force enough.

* * *

**A/N:** And so Day One of this story ends. That's the intros over. Now onto the plot! (Plot? What plot?)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Well, sorry for the wait, here's the first chapter of a new arc! Enjoy!

_Teller of Chronicles: _Sorry for the wait!

_Tikigod784: _Thank you for sticking with me!

_GaleBread: _Erm…no actually! (Seeker as a Necron?! Setsuna wouldn't have stood a chance against his "We'll be back!")

_Reusch17: _Keeping up!

_Blaze Shadow: _Thank you too for remaining loyal.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Life as Normal**

_It had been two days since the Corsair assault, and life had returned to a semblance of normalcy with shocking haste. Konoka Konoe was back in class, better protected there than at home. Her adventure had galvanized her into taking her magic studies and her security more seriously, but 3-A was the ultimate security. Negi Springfield had also resumed his duties as a teacher, and was progressing well in his studies of magic and combat, his powers growing rapidly. Setsuna Sakurazaki was, as always, by the side of her Ojou-sama, but the seeds had already been sown by her beloved. What would grow was still anybody's guess at that time. Kaede Nagase too, had returned to her casual life, none the worse for wear for her time in the infirmary. Her thoughts sometimes strayed to the mercenary who had managed to best her, and his mysterious appearance by her side when she was hospitalised. The kunoichi wondered if she would ever spar with him again, and if she'd ever discover the reason for his presence at the hospital. That too was a seed sown, though it ended up sprouting something that should not have been. _

_Of the Inquisition, numerous records and recordings have led me to believe that during those two days Janst and Baristan established a field HQ where they initiated their operation of Marking the demon host. Such a case had to be handled carefully. If not, they would only have two options left. Declaring a crusade, or purging the entire area of taint. Both essentially involved razing Mahora to the ground. And neither operative had grown as callous as to sacrifice a school of children to slay one demon. Cortez was a different matter entirely, but he does not take to the stage yet. _

_The Corsairs were still licking their wounds and rebuilding their strength. Another Manta had been requisitioned, and they were awaiting the arrival of a sixth soldier. When working on major missions or expecting them in the future, the mercenaries always employed a unit of six. Never had more been employed in any single task in concert. And their current numbers after the mission in Mahora numbered four. Seeker was still out of commission after his encounter with Sakurazaki, and Clockwork was missing in action. _

_It was at this time that things started to get complicated…_

* * *

"We'll drink and sing!" cried Sakurako victoriously, punching the air. The rest of the class let out a jubilant cheer, thoroughly enjoying the party atmosphere. As the cheerleaders set out the karaoke, Kaede couldn't help but smile, infected by the cheerfulness of her classmates. And this party was for her, so why shouldn't she enjoy it? The whole class was crowded into the dormitory lounge, raising hell in celebration of her discharge from the hospital. Word got around fast when one roomed with the Narutaki twins. No one seemed to bother to ask her why she was injured in the first place, only relieved to have her back in good health, and giving them a chance to throw yet another party. Drinks were floating around, and Negi was running between groups, trying to maintain a semblance of order. He shouldn't have tried. Kaede had been to such parties, held by her classmates, before. Whilst seemingly chaotic, they never got quite out of hand. Everyone was in class the next day after all.

"Negi-kun! Please try this on!"

"Sakurako-san!"

Then again, since their ten year old teacher had arrived, all such celebrations were rowdier than usual. Idly leaning against the wall, the kunoichi watched her homeroom teacher run for his life from Sakurako and Misa, intent on making him cosplay for them again. She smiled calmly as the boy ducked and weaved in between his students, gaining a decent head start on his pursuers as he fled the room. His physical condition was improving, she had to admit. Negi-sensei would make a most interesting opponent one day.

Just like him.

Kaede frowned as her trail of thought once more led her back to the blonde youth who had wounded her. Had he done something to her, that night at the hospital? A mage trick? A poison? She'd have to check with Mana and Setsuna to make sure nothing was wrong with her. She'd have to be in top condition should he ever choose to show his face around here again.

That was when the dormitory bell rang, and Madoka leapt down from the makeshift stage. "Food's here," she said in explanation, heading towards the door.

"We'll help!" chirruped the twins, bolting past her, eager to lay claims on whatever cake was in the delivery. Kaede smiled again as she followed her roommates, deciding that she might as well help out as well. On her way to the entrance, Negi dashed past in the opposite direction, still hotly pursued. Silently, the ninja wished him luck, flashing him a calming smile before he was gone. She shook her head at her classmates' childish antics as she reached the door, the twins already heading back, their arms and pockets loaded with packets of cakes and sweets, their faces split into wide grins.

"Good haul de gozaru?" she asked as her roommates scurried past.

"Oooh yeah," replied Fuka, licking her lips. "This is gonna be great! Right Fumika?"

Her twin nodded in response as they ran off, balancing boxes of sweets the same way Nodoka balanced towers of books. With seemingly no effort and defying all the laws of physics.

"Kaede-san, you going to help out?!" asked Madoka from the door. "There's only one or two boxes left!"

"Coming de gozaru," she answered, coming up behind the cheerleader in a heartbeat. The dark hair girl nearly leapt in fright.

"Don't do that!" she frowned, trying to calm her breathing. The kunoichi just smiled her calm smile in response as the cheerleader picked up a box filled with snacks, and added as she walked away. "And just sign off the paperwork will you?" Kaede nodded as Madoka vanished deep inside the building.

"Sign here please," requested the delivery boy, not bothering to look at her as he held out a form and a pen. Kaede took the pen and quickly signed the paperwork. The deliverer took the items back and touched his cap briefly in thanks before turning around and walking back to the van.

"I'm not a fool de gozaru."

He stopped. Sighing slightly, he turned around, sweeping his cap off, letting the air rush through his blonde hair. Clockwork regarded her coolly as they stood facing each other. The ninja's face had turned blank, and the Corsair's countenance never revealed anything.

"Kaede-san? What's taking so…" queried Sakurako, trailing off as she noticed the stand off. She looked from the impassionate look on her classmate's face to the frigid stare of the boy. "Um…I'll come back later, shall I?"

The blonde scoffed and turned away, marching back to the vehicle, leaving the girls behind. Kaede shot the second cheerleader a grateful look before turning around and going back inside.

"Erm, Kaede-san, who was that?" she ventured, turning to watch the van drive away.

"No one," was her reply. Sakurako blinked. It was the first time Kaede had answered so…bluntly. She clearly did not want to pursue the matter further…but she obviously knew the boy from somewhere…perhaps...

Sakurako's eyes lit up as she hit upon the answer. A boyfriend! That was it! Kaede had a boyfriend which no one in 3-A knew about and they've either broken up or are having one of those phases! She fought valiantly to keep a grin off her face. Kaede was good at hiding things, so a secret relationship would be a piece of cake for her. Everything began to slowly click into place. Her long absences with no explanation. The reason she had those dresses without ever taking part in any of the formal festivities with the class…

This wasn't big, this was HUGE! Sakurako knew that she had to find out more, because only then would she be able to offer help to the blue baka ranger. But then again, the 3-A kunoichi wasn't exactly famous for being talkative, or easy to get a hold of. If she wanted information, she'd have to find another way of getting it. And she knew just the way.

* * *

_You fled._

He stayed silent.

_He did the right thing. There are times to fight and times to hold back_ approved one voice.

_Coward _sneered the first.

…_what about you? what is your opinion on this? _queried the third.

_You're asking me? _replied the sixth incredulously. Before, all it had gotten was scorn.

_He's most patient with you. Did you tell him to do this? _it asked.

_No._

_So he fled on his own? The man who fears not even the reaper himself? _continued the third.

_They weren't fighting_ pointed out the sixth.

_But she knows we're around now! She is a threat! She will hunt us down! _cried the first furiously.

He'd had enough. "Silence!" he hissed angrily, his inner turmoil falling quite at the sound of his voice. He'd never bothered to speak to them before, so this sudden outburst was most…out of character. "I have had enough! If you are not going to help, stay silent! I chose not to fight as there is a high probability of losing, and I cannot afford anymore delays."

_Then why are we still here?_

"Order 45. I cannot return due to risk of being tracked. Hence I need to remain here until they contact me. You should know that," he pointed out in annoyance, focusing on the road ahead as he returned to his employer.

_We are but aspects of your personality. We cannot know all_ explained the first voice, to the general agreement of the others.

"What about you, six?" asked Clockwork quietly.

_What you do is your decision, I have no influence upon that_ was his quiet reply.

* * *

"Can we go out now?" asked Konoka pleadingly, hanging off Setsuna's arm, using her wide-eyed puppy eyes again. The half-demon sighed and nodded once, and her friend burst into ecstatic joy. All around them, the party was becoming quite boisterous, though here and there were areas of pure calm and serenity. Mana was at the epicentre of one, looking out the window, as if at the party purely by accident. And sitting in a corner typing furiously was Chisame, grumbling beneath her breath again. With a smile, Konoka hauled off her protector to the doorway, but paused as Kaede silently glided past, like a shadow. The look on her face was unreadable, and she was quickly followed by Sakurako, who had a devious grin on her face. She paused as the two girls approached.

"Say, do the two of you know where Kazumi-san or Harumii-san are?" queried the cheerleader, smiling widely. The Konoe inheritor and her protector shared a look before shaking her heads. Sakurako's face fell briefly.

"Why?" asked Konoka, tilting her head to the side quizzically.

The cheerleader brightened up immediately as she leant in, eager to inform someone else of the secret she had uncovered. "Well…keep this quiet, but from what I've discovered, it seems like Kaede-san had a boyfriend!"

The two long-haired girls shared another look, surprise evident on their faces before turning back to Sakurako, who winked at them as she continued. "It seems so! She recognized the delivery boy and he recognized her. They just stood there glaring at each other before he left without a word!"

"That does not signify a past relationship," pointed out Setsuna, briefly wondering if that was why Kaede had become more reserved lately. Next to her Konoka was lost in thought as well.

Sakurako shrugged. "True, but what else could it be?"

The half-demon could think of several different possibilities, but those involved magic and so couldn't be shared with the enthusiastic girl. In the end she just shrugged and said "Perhaps you're right…"

The cheerleader nodded before continuing. "That's why I need more information! And to do that, I need either Asakura-san or Hazumii-san."

"Ooh, tell us how it goes!" smiled Konoka, infected by Sakurako's enthusiasm. Their classmate nodded once and flashed them a quick smile before running off to find the two gossip specialists. As soon as she was out of earshot, Konoka turned to her protector. "So what do you think it is?"

"A threat," replied Setsuna, eyes narrowed.

* * *

In the meantime, Kaede had managed to slip past the party totally unnoticed, her lips forming into a brief smile as she heard the twins singing some song they had learnt ages ago, and on towards her room. Barely three minutes had passed since she'd seen that boy again, and she couldn't let it go. He was a threat, and as such, had to be confronted and dealt with. She walked into her room, closing the door behind her, and quickly changed into her training outfit. It was far more suitable than her uniform for what she was planning. She slipped a few kunai's into the folds of her clothing, and folded up the giant shuriken, storing it away for later use. The kunoichi looked around the room to make sure she hadn't left anything, and satisfied, leapt out of her window into the fading light.

Landing softly on the ground two stories below, she quickly searched her memory, locating to vital pieces of information. The mark on the van, and the mark on a certain shop. Cross reference those together, match them, and add in the fastest route between here and there…

She sprinted off in the direction the van had taken, keeping to the roof and tree tops, using her formidable skills as a ninja to become little more than a blur, moving far faster over the precarious pathways than any normal, or sane, human would. For ten minutes she travelled this way, never once getting lost or slipping, speeding above the unaware citizens of Mahora like a cloud in the sky, until she leapt down from a low building onto the deserted street, looking up at a shop sign, the emblem exactly the same as the one on the delivery truck. Izashima's…Antiques?! Kaede frowned slightly. She couldn't have made a mistake, surely. The symbol was the same after all…

The kunoichi stood outside for several moments before reaching a decision and walking into the shop. The bell over the door tinkled merrily, echoing around the dusty confines of the shop, illuminated by a single light hanging from the ceiling, swinging lazily in the draft from the open door. The interior was surprisingly small and cluttered with what seemed to be a treasure hoard of junk. Broken clocks sat side-by-side with glittering statues of perfect minerals, and fine swords coated in dust lay propped up against heaps of corroded metal. Kaede picked her way through this obstacle course, warily making her way to the counter, behind which a man was reading a paper. She tapped the polished wood surface politely, and the Mahora gazette lowered, revealing an old, balding man, long grey hair falling down below his shoulders, and a pair of spectacles balanced precisely on his nose. His eyes were bright blue and crystal clear, as if free from the age the rest of his body was suffering. He smiled at her suddenly, and his whole face seemed to become younger, filled with a childish glee.

"Yes, can I help you?" he offered happily, folding up his newspaper and placing it neatly on the counter.

Briefly Kaede wondered at his manner and behaviour, for the shop simply screamed "UNTIDY!" and yet this man seemed to be the sort to sort everything, even his postage stamps, into weekly allowances. She dispelled the image quickly and turned to the matter at hand. "Good evening de gozaru. I was wondering if you've seen someone."

The elderly shopkeeper's face seemed to fall momentarily at the fact that this wasn't the customer, but he replied. "Of course, anyone in particular?"

The girl took a moment to gather her knowledge of the youth before speaking. "A young man, about my height, blonde hair, brown eyes?"

The man thought this over before clapping his hands together. "Ah, yes, Mason-san! He works for me, but he's out running an errand for a friend of mine in the catering business. He should be back momentarily, if you care to wait?"

Kaede nodded and smiled at the shopkeeper. "Of course, thank you de gozaru."

* * *

They waited about five minutes before the sound of a vehicle stopping in front of the shop was hear. Kaede had by this time become overcome with curiosity and had wandered off into the furthest reaches of the junkyard to inspect some finely crafted daggers resting in a small, simple wooden box. In the distance she heard the bell jingle again.

Silently, Clockwork entered the shop, shrugging of his blue uniform and snatching his black coat from behind the counter. He looked up at Izashima and inclined his head respectfully before asking. "So what else is on tonight's to-do list?"

The old man shook his head, smiling slightly. "Nothing. For your first day, you've done enough. And I wouldn't dream of keeping you away from your girlfriend."

Clockwork froze, and slowly turned his head to stare at the elderly man. Kaede, who had heard every word, felt herself blush faintly before reigning in her emotions and stepping over to the pair. The blonde noticed her and his look of mild confusion turned to recognition and then resignation. Kaede just kept her neutral expression. Izashima grinned as he turned around and walked off towards the back of the shop. "So go out and enjoy yourselves!" he suggested, leaving the pair alone.

The youthful pair simply stood there, staring at each other. Finally, Clockwork broke the silence. "Should we step outside?" he suggested politely, keeping his expression neutral. Kaede nodded and walked past him and through the door. Briefly, the Corsair considered fleeing before his sense of pride kicked in. Resigned to his fate, he followed the kunoichi outside.

It was already dark, and the air was still, and the street deserted. The girl was waiting for him beneath a street lamp. Sighing slightly, he joined her, watching the darkness. Eventually she spoke.

"Why are you here de gozaru?" she asked directly, not deigning to look at him.

"I have no way of leaving," he answered, not turning around either. Several more tense seconds passed.

"You tried to kidnap my friend, and you think you can just stay here?" queried the kunoichi again.

Clockwork looked at her coldly. "No. Unfortunately, I can't leave."

Kaede gripped her hidden shuriken tightly. "And why is that de gozaru?" she asked warily.

"I'm flat broke."

There was a long silence.

Longer.

LONGER.

Ok, long enough.

"What?!"

Still impassive, the blonde youth turned to face her fully and repeated. "I'm broke. I can't afford the tickets to leave."

Keade just stared at him. She knew many called her a baka, but did he honestly think that kind of response would satisfy her? "Do you honestly expect me to believe that, de gozaru?!"

The blonde sighed and closed his eyes. "No. But it's the truth. What, do you want me to prove it?"

"Some proof would lend your claim credibility de gozaru," replied the girl, releasing her shuriken and folding her arms across her chest, a frown marring her face.

The Corsair stayed silent as he opened his eyes and nodded, beginning to rummage through his pockets. Eventually he pulled out a wallet and dropped it in her hand. She looked at it and then back at him. "Why would I need this?"

"The pin is 32615," said the boy. "Go check my balance for yourself."

"That isn't proof. You could have another account in another bank," countered the ninja, her tone tinged with annoyance.

Clockwork's face contorted momentarily in annoyance too. "Look, do you think I would want to stay here? On my own? In the middle of hostile territory?"

"…No."

"Then name me a reason why I would be stuck here if not for the fact I was broke!"

Kaede said nothing.

"Exactly."

_My, talkative today aren't we? _sniggered voice one.

_SHUT UP. I've had enough. Your pointless bickering, these bloody accusations! I'm sick of it! Why should I take everything silently and lying down?! _snapped back Clockwork, his cold attitude beginning to crack.

…_he has a point _conceded six, to general agreement.

"So…as soon as you can afford travel from here, you'll leave?" asked Kaede, still suspicious.

"Yes. That's why I'm working. To earn enough money to get out of this damn place," explained Clockwork patiently, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the dark sky. "Satisfied?"

The blue baka ranger stood there for a while, looking at him. Trained in the ninjitsu arts, she could also read body language fairly well, and as far as she was aware, he wasn't lying. "No," she answered. "How do I know you're just saying this to get me to leave you alone de gozaru?"

The boy seemed to remain clam, but she noticed his stiffening of posture. "Tell you what, how about I meet you here every day then to prove I'm working and not planning anything sinister? You also have my bank card, so I cannot withdraw any money until I save up enough for a ticket. Every day we'll check my balance to see if I have enough. Fine with you?" he snapped, clearly irritated.

The girl's eyes widened slightly in surprise at his sudden outburst before narrowing in anger. "Fine, de gozaru," she said. "Here tomorrow evening then?"

"Fine by me!"

"Very well then de gozaru. Until tomorrow." And with that she turned around and left.

Only once she was out of sight did the consequences of that conversation hit Clockwork. He stood shock still for a long time under the lamp, realizing that he'd just complicated matters ridiculously.

_Sweet move, idiot. _

_Shut up!_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Here's the latest update. Oh so much filler yes, but it has a purpose.

_Teller of Chronicles:_ Thanks, I did think Izashima's previous intro was just too sudden. And he never really had an impact on the story either.

_DarkDragonDave:_ Thank you for the praise. Interesting thought about the...thoughts, but italicising tends to work well enough.

_GaleBread:_ Not slow, just busy. Once we hit a holiday you're sure to speed up!

_SoulLoss:_ Thank you very much. Sympathy for a character is important, but the inner voices...well, that can easily turn cliche.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**A Day in the Life…**

_In Mahora, in a little side street, there is a small shop. It is always open, but barely anyone ever enters. This is Izashima's Emporium, peddler of artefacts mundane and extreme. A fanciful title for a shameless scrounger and thief. Then again, his ability to obtain anything anytime for the right price has been highly sought after in the past, whether by righteous mage, greedy bureaucrat or blooded warlord. After a lifetime of rumoured adventures and exploits, he had settle down in Mahora, rightly thinking that no one would think to look for him there, or need his services. It was an Academy, and apart from the one or two more culturally inclined inhabitants, no one paid his shop a second glance. _

_That changed with the coming of Luke Mason, Corsair Clockwork. _

* * *

"This is the place."

The small, dingy shop before them was impressively unimpressive. Nothing marked it out as different from any other dusty little outlet one could find the world over. But the battered sign hanging from the window displayed the same symbol as the one they had been given by Sakurako. Sharing a look, the two girls shrugged and entered, the bell clinking merrily as the accessed the interior of the shop. Whereas the outside had been unflattering, the inside was a curious blend of better and worse. Worse, because it was dark, dusty, smelly and ridiculously cluttered. Better, because the darkness was almost inviting, the dust gave the place a sense of faded grandeur, the scents were alien and exotic, and the clutter was bizarre and wonderful mixed with mundane. The dark haired of the pair was already scanning everything that caught her attention, scribbling away furiously in a little sketchbook she carried at her side always. The other girl was a lot more professional, having done such information digging before. She strode smartly up to the counter, ignoring the looming heaps of junk surrounding her and tapped the bell once. Almost immediately a lean, elderly man appeared from below the counter, as if on a spring.

"Yes Miss, how can I help you today?" he said pleasantly, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm that did not seem appropriate on his old form. His hands were clasped together as if praying, and his smile was wide and honest.

The student smiled politely as her partner skittered around the shop, copying everything of interest into her notebook. "Actually, we were wondering if you've seen someone. A teenage boy, slightly taller than me, blonde hair, brown eyes?"

Still smiling, the shopkeeper nodded slightly. "Yes, you mean Mason-san right? Good kid, works hard and doesn't complain. Why you looking for him?" he asked, his smile losing some of its warmth.

"I just want to ask him some questions. I mean, that's what I do, I'm a reporter," replied the red head, handing a calling card to the salesman. Izashima glanced at it before sighing to himself.

"Very well then Kazumi-san," he replied, pushing his spectacles back up. "I'm afraid Mason-san is currently out on an errand which will take him most of the day to take care of. If you care to come again tomorrow perhaps?"

The reporter seemed to consider this for a moment, turning to her partner in crime and sharing a nod. "That's cool with us. Are you sure he won't be out tomorrow though?" she asked the man, hefting her bag.

"I'll make sure he has nothing to keep him away from you." grinned the shopkeeper, sitting down behind the counter and opening his paper. "So will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you," replied the reporter, tilting her head in a gesture of farewell as she turned around and walked out of the shop without a second glance. "Come on Haruna!"

"Just lemme sketch this!" called back the manga artist, rapidly drawing onto her notepad the gauntlet in front of her. She added the last line with a flourish and dashed after her schoolmate. Izashima watched them go before standing up and walking over to the gauntlet the other girl had been drawing. He frowned as he lifted it up, along with its stand, and carried it back to the counter, placing it on a shelf behind him.

"By Dust begun, by Dust undone…" he muttered to himself, sitting down and opening his paper again.

* * *

Back on the main street bustling with people, away from the darkened side street where the Emporium squatted, Kazumi and Haruna huddled together, heads bent close as they plotted their next move.

"So what did you think?" asked the reporter, casting a glance back in the general direction of the shop, quickly flicking through the photos she had secretly taken whilst inside.

"That place is so COOL!" breathed the artist, flipping through her notepad. "The things they have…amazing!" Her eyes had a slightly glazed look as she remembered the antiques and artefacts cluttering the interior of the dingy little emporium. Briefly she made a mental note to stop by there again to gather concepts for her latest work.

"Haruna, that is not why we went there. What did you think of the shopkeeper?" reiterated the reporter, rubbing her eyes in frustration. Whilst a stunning gossip, Haruna's information gathering skills left a lot to be desired.

"Running a shop like that? Very fishy if you ask me," replied her classmate, a familiar evil glint in her eye as the cogs in her mind began to turn.

"My thoughts exactly. We got a possible name though, we should start with that," answered Kazumi thoughtfully.

"You do that, I'll hang around until this Mason guy turns up," offered Haruna. Kazumi flashed her a grin.

"Good idea. I'll meet you back at the dorm at…shall we say six?"

"Right. Then we'll share what we found out," grinned the artist evilly. "Until this evening then."

* * *

The shop bell tinkled for the second time in ten minutes. Izashima glanced up, certain it was Luke. He did a double take when he realized it was yet another girl. She was tall, had orange hair done up in a ponytail and wore glasses along with a permanently annoyed look. She looked around the shop, distaste evident on her features as she stomped up to the counter and placed a carries bag down.

"Can I help you?" asked the shopkeeper carefully, gently placing his newspaper down. He had only got through two pages since the day began.

The schoolgirl looked at him and replied evenly, obviously suppressing disgust with each syllable. "I heard you fix computers?" she said, disbelieve evident in her tone as she glanced around the antiques lying discarded everywhere.

"We fix anything, sure. But why us Miss – uh?" replied Izashima, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Hasegawa," supplied the girl. "And I only came here as all the other shops are closed or charging extortionist prices. I heard you were more….affordable," she continued, pulling out a state of the art laptop form the bag. Her tone made it evident she didn't expect much from him.

The elderly man didn't reply immediately but simply lifted the laptop and gave it a quick look over. "Yeah we can fix it. As for price…" he trailed off. Hasegawa motioned for him to go on. He did. She turned livid. Five minutes of intense haggling followed before she finally yielded.

"Fine, when can I pick it up?" asked the tech girl eventually, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Tomorrow afternoon should be about right. I'll have my new guy take a look at it," replied Izashima, running a hand through his thinning hair.

The schoolgirl nodded once and turned around, leaving swiftly without a further word. The shopkeeper sighed heavily as he placed the laptop beneath the counter and opened his paper.

The bell tinkled again. Izashima looked up sharply. This day was rapidly becoming more and more interesting as time went on. The elderly shopkeeper sighed when he saw it was only his co-worker. "I was wondering when you'd be back," he greeted.

Luke nodded at him, his face as neutral as the day he was hired. "Good afternoon sir. I hope you had a pleasant day?" He sounded polite and well-meaning, but Izashima knew full well he was just acting like this out of whatever sense of duty he had. Not that it made much difference though. The blonde's eyes never left the shop keeper as he walked to the door leading to the back of the emporium, hefting his bag deftly.

"It's been good yes. Even got some business," he said with a grin, holding up the laptop he had received from the spectacled girl. The boy stopped and stared at him without changing his expression. "Yes I know, shocking. Now what do you know abut electronics?"

Luke glanced at the laptop. "A thing or two. I get by." Performing ad-hoc repairs on Seeker in the middle of a fire fight probably qualified.

"Good. See if you can fix this then," laughed Izashima, tossing him the machine along with its carrier bag. "The girl who dropped this off wants it done by tomorrow. Think you're up to it?"

"Sure," dead panned his worker, catching the laptop as if he'd done nothing else since the day he was born as he ducked through the door leading to the back of the shop. Izashima watched him go and smiled slightly. For all his faults, Luke was a good worker. He'd go far if he wanted to. Shaking his head at the lad's standoffish attitude, he ruffled his paper, found page three, and began to read. He got halfway down before the bell tinkled. He stopped reading and stared at his paper. It was almost as if the damn thing summoned customers to avoid being read. He looked up at his latest visitors. Customers would be the wrong word. No one who had come in had bought anything after all. He recoiled slightly at the sight in front of him. Two more girls in school uniforms, definitively no older than Hasegawa-san were looking around the store. One carried a sheathed sword and followed the other around in a protective way, hanging back but scanning the immediate area. Izashima had seen that sort of behaviour before. Best not to trifle with her. The other…seemed more lively, curiously prodding and inspecting everything at once.

"Can I help you?" coughed the elderly man politely, folding up his paper and throwing it away with disgust. He'd have to catch up over the internet it seemed.

The curious girl turned to him and smiled. "Nope, just looking around." Her stoic companion nodded. Izashima tilted his head in acknowledgement, but did not look away. The girl was inspecting a curious artefact almost as if drawn to it. Never a good sign, He really should stop leaving those things lying around like that.

"Anything I could interest you in? Or are you waiting for someone? If you want that reporter girl, Asakura-san, or Hasegawa-san, they were here earlier but left pretty quickly," Izashima said, hoping she wouldn't pick it up.

"Kazumi-san was here? What did she want?" asked the cheerier of the pair, her long black hair waving lazily as she straightened up to look at him. The man sighed silently to himself. That had been too close.

"Oh, she was just looking for my assistant," explained Izashima offhandedly as the girl looked at him, interested.

"Who is he?" she continued, still curious.

"Oh, tall, blonde, brown eyes. You know him?" he said, casting her a glance as hen opened up his paper again.

"No, not really," said the girl with a shrug as she turned away, already looking at the next shelf. "Ooooh, pretty…" Izashima bit his tongue to contain whatever was building up inside. Definitively nothing good.

"Ojou-sama. We ought to leave. We have things to do after all," spoke up the stoic guardian suddenly. The shopkeeper blinked in surprise. He'd forgotten she was there at all. Her "ojou-sama" looked at her and made the most amazing puppy eyes he'd ever seen, but caved in under the cool stare of her guardian.

"Aw alright secchan. Bye!" she cried happily as she skated outside, her…bodyguard? following. For a full minute Izashima just stared at the door in silence before ruffling his newspaper and beginning to read once more.

"Well, I've done what I can for now. I'll finish off once I get back." Speak of the devil…

"Mason-san, you aren't in any trouble are you?" the shopkeeper asked as the blonde swept past, putting on his jacket. The boy stopped and turned around.

"I have no idea what you mean, sir," he answered politely, and as far as his employer could tell, honestly. Still, he wore that neutral look like a poker player. Man, the kid was definitively a gambler…

"Well, if you ever have any trouble, you know you can come to me right? I'll always be glad to help. One thing you should remember, careful around girls"

"What?"

"One of them came in today and seemed to know you," the older male explained. "And yesterday had another one looking for you so…" he trailed off, leering at the boy.

The mercenary looked at him for another moment before shaking his head. "Whatever. I'm leaving for a while. I've got to meet someone."

"A girl?"

"…Yes."

Izashima's laughter hounded Luke into the street. "I really don't like that man," he hissed between clenched teeth as he stalked away towards the meeting point he'd agreed upon with Miss Nagase.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Yes, ridiculously late, I know. I'm sorry. Holidays can be quite distracting...

_SoulLoss:_ Thank you. No more filler here, just moving the story along. THough parts could probably have been cut. And thanks for the opinion, it counts, it really does.

_KonoSetsuna:_ Hmm, hopefully this will also surprise you. 'Cough'NO'cough'

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Sowing and Reaping**

_Plans, feelings, both opposite ends of the spectrum. Cold logic and passionate emotion. Curious as how both come to fruition over time. Even more fascinating is the change of one into the other, a rare occurrence at the best of times. _

_That doesn't make much sense does it? Damn philosophy…_

* * *

How did Kazumi do it? Stakeout was probably the single most tedious thing in existence! Haruna held back a groan as she stretched, feeling something in her neck click. She glanced down idly at her notebook. Over the past twenty minutes she had elaborated on her previous sketches and written out a basic story arc for her manga. What else could she do? Nothing of note was happening! She grumbled to herself as she cleaned her glasses to pass the time, putting them back on just as that boy, Luke, came out of the shop.

She immediately sat up at attention, flipping to a fresh page in her book and staring intently at the blonde. If this guy really was Kaede's boyfriend, she wanted to know why. So far, she wasn't impressed. He wasn't particularly tall (he and Kaede must've had at least several inches in height difference), was working in a dingy little shop (so down on his luck), and always had an expression which conveyed the idea he did not give a damn about anything. The artist bit back a snort. There was no way in hell Kaede, of all people, could have been going out with this guy.

Haruna shelved her thoughts for the moment. She would bring those up in conversation with Kazumi later. For now, she had some stalking to do! Rising silently from the bench, she grinned evilly as she set off after the blonde youth.

* * *

_What a lovely day…_ commented Six, idly humming some tune to himself.

_Shut up _replied Three, sounding quite exasperated with the mild mannered voice's antics.

_Eh?! Why? _queried the other voice, perplexed, as if not understanding how annoying he could be at times.

_Because of all of us here, you're the only loser_ explained Two snidely.

_He's right _concurred One. Six fell silent, undoubtedly hurt.

Clockwork, frankly, didn't give a damn. After what Six had got him into, he deserved to be mistreated. If he found it unfair, then screw him, He was just a voice anyway. In the end, this body had but one master!

Speaking of which, why was he doing this anyway? Going to meet someone who knew him as an enemy? True, he had promised, but why should he abide by it? He was a mercenary. Ergo, he had no morals whatsoever. If he cared about morals and the like, he would've become a knight instead, or a soldier. He'd still have Kharistan, who was nothing more than a literal headache at the best of times, but at least he kept quiet, unlike these bastardised versions of himself. Apparently.

Clockwork bit his tongue hard in annoyance until he tasted blood. This was turning into a problem. He couldn't think straight with all this babbling going on in his mind. Maybe Izashima had something to deal with such a problem, he looked the type to have anything…

Geh, he was getting ahead of himself again. Best to take care of this damned meeting with the ninja first, and then sort out a cure for his broken mind. And then find a way out of this accursed place. The Inquisition had surely not forgotten about him, so he had to tread carefully. Which brought him back to the question as to what the hell he was doing out here in the first place. Circles and circles, spinning in his mind. Brutally, Clockwork shoved his thoughts and bickering inner voices to one side. He'd deal with them later. For now he had to prove his sincerity to a kunoichi. The youth snorted. She was right to be suspicious. He was a mercenary after all. The fact he was actually being honest this one time shouldn't deter her from her wariness. He put his hands in his pockets and walked on in silence, mind blank. In a few short steps he was at the designated meeting place, beneath a tree in full bloom. All he had to do now was wait.

* * *

_Chernobyl, Russia. _

_Noon. _

_Slight chance of rain._

"One shot, one kill," intoned Hunter, peering through his scope. The boys head filled his vision, his black ponytail swaying in the radioactive wind. And yet there he was, shivering in the cold, drawing his black coat tighter around him, as if in scorn of the radiation polluting the area. Hunter admired it. It was a stupid thing to do, true, but the bravery of fools is bravery nonetheless.

He had been stalking this prey for a while now. His first sight of the hunted was in Venice, dangling off the side of a bridge. That had been a louse shot no matter what way you looked at it, so he passed. Hunter's next opportunity came in Munich, stalking the criminal through the dark city streets. He managed to get a shot at him, but the bullet had harmlessly bounced off his prey's shield. Not this time. This time he was loaded with turbo-penetrator rounds. Self-made, capable of going through tank armour in a pinch. Of course, these were reserved for only the toughest targets, (like thick skulled demons) but his influence had ensured him a fair amount of the precious ammunition. No mistakes this time. The youth in his sights froze dead suddenly. Hunter's breath caught in his throat as he too fell immobile. Nothing happened for a second or two, before the sniper's instincts kicked in, screaming at him. Without realising what he was doing, he rolled to his side as a fireball fell from the sky. It exploded on the rooftop, sending sparks and waves of heat everywhere, disorientating his heat-seeking mechanisms. Cursing silently he tore off his goggles, hurling them away as he leapt from the top of the block of flats, glancing about for his quarry. Another ball of fire exploded above him, sending fist-sized chunks of masonry down after him. Hunter smiled. This guy was good.

But he was better.

Flicking his wrist, three long blades emerged from his gauntlet, almost like claws. Hunter struck into the building he was falling next to, his other hand holding onto his sniper rifle. There was a terrific screeching as the claws tore through the brickwork, slowing his fall enough to allow him a safe landing. As the rubble rained down around him, the gunner stood up and retracted the blades, subconsciously inspecting his rifle for any damage sustained during the drop, satisfied when he found none.

"Die now!" he heard a cry, and something flew past his face, slapping itself onto the wall of the apartment block. He half-turned his head, one eye scanning the area in front of him as the rifle came up, easily held in one hand. The paper on the wall seemed like a page torn from a book, displaying a magic circle, slowly revolving and growing in luminescence with each revolution.

"Oh, shit," cursed the sniper as the countdown hit zero, and the entire building exploded.

The explosion rippled downwards, disintegrating the structure and changing it into a colossal grenade, masonry flying everywhere like shrapnel.

"Bloody bounty hunters," cursed the black haired youth to himself, looking at his handiwork, a smouldering crater the undoubtedly looked like a sun from the sky, with extending tendrils of devastation in each direction. "Well, back to-" he stopped mid-sentence as something hard pressed against his head.

"Tricky bastard aren't you?" complimented the Corsair, his sniper rifle jammed against the young man's skull. Only to be expected from the famed Hell Fire. It was almost a shame to kill him now, but work is work. The cold wind blew past, frosting their breaths as Hunter's senses slowed down time to a crawl, watching the beads of sweat run down the man's neck. He always did this, to savour the eternity it took for the kill to be complete. His finger pulled on the trigger slowly, at a pace a snail would find boring.

Then everything shattered with a harsh ring. Hunter blinked, suppressing the sudden pain as he was wrenched into normalcy. Ignoring the blood running from his ears, he tapped his headset, engaging the communicator.

"Angel hawk delta zero three two," he answered, his aim never wavering.

"Dark mother thirteen, angel hawk five nine one, over," came the reply.

There was a pause before Hunter finished the exchange. "Angel hawk falling. Sixty six, over and out."

There was a gust of wind, and the pressure on the back of the boys neck eased. Immediately he spun about, book clutched to his chest, hand outstretched, ready to unleash a spell. But he was alone. Hunter had vanished, leaving Hell's Fire alone in the polluted wasteland.

* * *

Janst drummed a rapid tempo on the wall, gazing at Baristan, who was putting the finishing touches onto the Mark. It was a crude twisted chunk of metal, brutal and violent, in keeping with its function. Nothing more than a crown of thorns for the damned. The dark skinned warrior shivered slightly, looking away from the forge where the torturer was fashioning the item. He had better things to do then watch a sadist prepare for work. Or pleasure, depending on your viewpoint. But that was beside the point.

The man moved away from the forge, ascending the worn stairs up to the ground floor of their hideout. The dusty, cracked wood which made the staircase was prone to creaking when a slight draft blew across them, yet they remained silent as the inquisitorial henchman made his way upstairs, lost in memories. He had chosen this path for himself, that was true. And he did not regret it. He was doing the right thing, striking down evil doers right, left and centre. But as a member of the Drak Hunters, "evil doers" meant not only rogue witches, warlocks, demons, monsters, alchemists or time travellers, but also civilians, other Dark Hunters, purveyors of various magical artefacts, deformed children and people the Inquisitor in charge simply did not like. Of course, that was thankfully rare in his current master's case. Janst passed the ground floor of the building, but paid it no mind as he continued thinking.

The Inquisitor. Now there was a mystery in and of itself. No one seemed to know who he was, what he looked like or indeed what he did. He was never around. Always away on "business" which, in the end, Janst did not want to know about. He always wore that cloak with the hood too. All that was really known was that, according to Baristan, the Inquisitor was young, and according to Revi, had a scar running down his face. Fair enough, he'd seen stranger. Of course, as none of this was definitive, it was next ot useless to him. And he didn't need to know who the Inquisitor was, just what he was. Deranged? Unhinged? Brilliant?

The ebony skinned crusader sighed as he reached the top of the stairs and walked over to the railing holding him back from a ten storey drop. Leaning against it he gazed out over Mahora from his vantage point. It was beautiful. Full of promise and peace. Janst wondered how long it would last, as the acrid stench of the forge wafted from the stairs. He closed his eyes and thought no more, allowing the peace and quiet to lull him to rest in the bell tower.

* * *

"You took your time," greeted the blonde.

"I had an afternoon class de gozaru," replied the kunoichi, dropping from the tree above him. She landed without a sound next to him, her face as always a picture of calm.

Luke didn't wait, but pulled the crumpled form out of his pocket and handed it to the girl with disinterest. Kaede took it without comment and scanned the pages whilst the boy yawned and glanced about, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hopefully this wouldn't become a ritual or a tradition. Such things led to familiarity and from then on to trouble. It happened with the Corsairs (_Heck, still is happening_ pointed out Four) and…

He shook his head as Miss Nagase's voice cut through the haze in his mind. "Well, it looks fine, only one thing doesn't make sense to me de gozaru," she said, handing him back the document. He took it without a word, only raising an eyebrow to indicate she should continue. "Well, there have been no withdrawals at all for the past week."

"And?"

"It doesn't make sense de gozaru. Surely you have had to take some out," she explained, titling her head to the side in puzzlement. "I mean, you need to pay rent or something, and you need to buy food."

"….those would set me back and delay my departure. At the current rate I'll have enough money to leave Mahora in two weeks," explained Clockwork, consulting his gold watch before flipping it back into his sleeve. "As for food, I get enough from Izashima to get by."

"And accommodation?" asked the student, voice tinged with curiosity.

"I work twenty-four hours, accommodation is not required. I catch some sleep during work in the antiques shop," replied the mercenary in a bored voice staring at the sky visible between the tree's branches.

Kaede looked at him in silence for a while, until he looked back at her.

* * *

Haruna stared. They were looking at each other in _that_ way. She couldn't quite keep a smile off her face as she watched them, gazing into each others eyes. So romantic. More than enough to pay off following Luke. It looked like Kazumi was onto something after all. Closing her notebook, she slunk away, with an evil grin plastered over her face as she realised there was a new rumour in school.

* * *

"And…disengage!" said Muse with a flourish as he spun in his chair and leapt to attention before Chigusa. Behind him, steam hissed furiously as ribbed pipes burst from the machinery and the skeletal, spider-like servo arms receded back into the darkness above. The Corsair bowed low as he announced. "My dear lady, I present to you, Corsair Seeker."

With a metallic hum and clanking, the draconic war machine stepped down to them, his electric blue eyes scanning them. Then with a metallic groan it got down onto one knee, bowing its head.

"Preparations are complete," it reported, glaring at the floor. "I await the order."

Chigusa smiled. The sense of power over these mercenaries. It was almost intoxicating. But now, she could strike back at the Kanto Magic Association, and this time, there would be no reprisals. Not with their precious mage-net defences offline.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Well dear readers, I'm afraid to say I have nearly lost my drive for this story. Too many things are popping up all over the place, and no matter what I'd do here, it would always come across as second best to mk1. So I hasten my pace to bring an ending to this story. I apologize again, but in the hopes of softening the blow, a TiE sequel is in the works, entitled "One Last Time".

_SoulLoss:_ Well, it takes practice, and is not always the best thing to do. It's just my style really. As for that…unlikely.

_Nederbird:_ Thanks for the praise. Long time no hear Nederbird, good to see you still following my work. A prequel? My friend, you're looking right when you should be looking left. And only one more probably after this. Ah. That's what I get for not double checking my facts hen I suppose…

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Hunters in the Dark**

_Hunters, Seekers, Spies…they all do the same thing. Track. Whether beast, man or information, it does not matter. They hunt down their quarry with an unwavering devotion to their cause. But like all searchers, they are guilty of tunnel vision. Once their prey is in their sights, nothing else matters. This can easily be used to our advantage…_

Janst scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. "So now what?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at his partner, for lack of a better term.

Baristan glared at the ebony skinned crusader, weighing up whether striking him would do any good. It was a tough call. On one hand, he could probably break the man's nose. On the other, there was an equal chance of his arm being severed at the elbow if he made any threatening gesture. For the moment, self-preservation won out, and the interrogator answered grudgingly, "We find the demonhost, and mark him. After that…well, we run like hell."

Janst's eyebrows shot up. "Good plan. Should I paint a bull's-eye on my face too?" He got a fist in the face for his trouble. The crusader let it pass as it would be bad for the sense of unity in the retinue for them to kill each other. Instead he spat out some blood and wiped away the stain around his mouth with his sleeve. "So how do we find this demon?" he asked, the movie theatre in his mind already playing an entertainingly gruesome horror film entitled his fate.

Baristan gave him a cold look before answering. "Cortez has assured me that we will find him," he replied with distaste. The torturer idly toyed with his razor blade, flicking it open and closed with a click, its silver surface appearing ghostly in the half-light of the room.

"So the Inquisitor himself has assured you?" asked Janst, taken aback. It was unheard of for the Inquisitor to offer assurance or even speak to his acolytes after he has set them a mission. Which could only mean that he was keeping a close eye on developments here. The warrior stiffened, feeling a sense of being watched well up suddenly within him. He fought it back down in time to notice Baristan nod in answer to his question before leaving without another word, the Mark clutched in his hands.

Janst shivered slightly at seeing the accursed item. It looked more like a torture implement rather than a stamp or brand. The fact it also exuded an aura of pure malevolence hardly helped either. It seemed too cruel to force such a fate on one so young, yet if he was a demonhost, nothing good would come about of allowing him to live.

He'd seen a demonhost once, long ago. It was a nightmare given form. Hardly informative but the truth. Everyone who looked upon it saw something different. The being could shift perceptions of everyone looking at it, appearing in a shape created according to the deepest fears of whoever looked on it. One person could see themselves, torn apart, another could see a beast of legend and a third person could see their own family laughing and cavorting in the ruined remains of their siblings. Janst offered a silent prayer of thanks for surviving the encounter, in no small part thanks to that mercenary he had been working with. That was before he had been chosen to be part of an Inquisitorial retinue. But form time to time, he still wondered what had become of that soldier. He had been good, totally ruthless and without fear. The perfect Crusader.

"Oi, come on!" shouted Baristan from a doorway to his left, obviously disliking having to call over the younger man. The Crusader glanced at him questioningly. "We both have to report to the Inquisitor. He'll tell us when to proceed."

Janst nodded and hurried over to the torturer, who stepped aside to let him into the flecting chamber. It was just a cell with no furniture and a pool of water in the middle, the focus of the flect. Baristan knelt at the edge of the water and murmured something, pulling out a small pouch from within the folds of his clothing. Janst stood to one side, not senior enough to have a part in the ritual. The Interrogator sprinkled some dust from the small bag into the water, and it simmered. There was a moment of hissing before a thick fog rose up form the water's surface and coalesced into the shape of a man. Janst's eyes went wide. He'd heard of flecting, an old method of communication involving water where the person being called appeared before the caller, solid as flesh, a hologram given birth by magic.

"Report," intoned the Inquisitor, his mere presence dominating the room, the air around his form turning into an icy mist.

"My Lord, the Mark is ready, we await your command to strike the demonhost," replied Baristan, getting down onto one knee and bowing his head. Behind him, Janst did the same.

Inquisitor Lord Cortez nodded once, his deep hood obscuring his features. "Very well Baristan, Janst. You have done well. But I believe your time in this has come to an end."

"What?" blurted out Janst, glancing up at his dread master before he could stop himself. The icy stare of the Inquisitor swung to him, freezing him in place.

"You have fulfilled your roles, and are no longer required. I hereby order you to leave Mahora and – "

"But Sir, the demon has not been marked, we cannot leave. A job has to be finished, surely?" hissed Baristan, glaring daggers at the Crusader behind him.

"By me," answered Cortez coldly.

"The boy was to be mine!" growled Baristan, dropping protocol and looking up at his master. Next to him, Janst edged away slightly from the flecting pool. This was quickly developing into a nasty situation. Normally the Torturer would have more sense but the idea of him losing his prey was obviously too much for him to bear.

"He is not your prey, he is mine. I've been tracking this on for too long to lose him now. And also, your methods are far from exemplary!" said the inquisitor icily, his gaze becoming steadily colder and the temperature in the room dropping, ice crystals beginning to form around his body.

Baristan's eyes flashed dangerously as he stood up. "Less then exemplary? I gave you results. The heretics and blasphemers were scourged from this world!"

"Along with innocent civilians. That I could not allow. I cannot allow, especially here."

"Aw, afraid of hurting the little kiddies are we? You can do this job if you think you can get here before I can finish it!" he replied angrily, spitting into the pool as he turned around and began to march off. The spittle hit the water, sending out the ripples in every direction. Janst, watching the whole exchange in silence, exclaimed in horror when the ripples broke against the Inquisitors legs.

"Fool. Who said I was merely flecting here?"

Baristan turned, his face a mask of shock, as the Inquisitor slammed into him, driving his fist into the man's gut.

The Interrogator coughed blood in outrage. "Y-you…c-came here…in _person_?!"

The Inquisitor nodded. "Indeed," he said to the man lying on the floor. "I came here myself because this is that important." The cloaked figure turned to Janst, who was still simply staring in mute shock at the sudden turn of events. "Take him from here. And don't return. This is my final order to you. Leave, and never speak of what you did to anyone."

Janst gulped slightly, trembling. The aura of menace from his Lord was like a suffocating shroud wrapped around his heart, yet he managed a nod. "B-but what of the I-inquisition?"

"The Inquisition does not exist," said Cortez simply, uttering the motto the Dark hunters had used for more than ten centuries.

* * *

"So he does know Kaede," stated Haruna, finishing sharing her information with Kazumi. The reporter mulled over what the rumour monger had observed and shared with her.

"Perhaps, but something isn't quite right…" pondered the red head, tapping her pen on the notepad she had resting on the desk in front of her. They were in her room, the curtains drawn and her laptop on, writing down all the information they had whilst simultaneously running several searches on affiliated information. "These things just don't add up. I mean, we know Kaede, and she never was interested in dating or anything…" continued Kazumi, scrolling down another web page her search had unearthed.

"Because of a bad experience with this guy when she was young!" offered Haruna. Her eyes glinted as she saw the whole incident play out in her mind, the young man sweeping he off her feet, then the betrayal, the heartbreak….

"…and she never told anyone about him and he seems to have always been here, why hadn't they encountered before?" added the reporter, tactfully ignoring Haruna's explanation. "These things really don't fit together. We need more information before we make a judgement," proposed Kazumi, nodding thoughtfully to herself as she saved her data onto a disk which she promptly took out and placed on the desk next to her. Seeing her companions look, she explained. "A lot of viruses have been going around, so I've started saving things on discs to avoid losing data." Haruna nodded and frowned slightly at her hard work being dismissed so easily by Kazumi. But she did have more experience gathering information. When it came to spreading it though, the manga artist knew she was superior.

"So what's our next move?" Haruna sighed in resignation. It looked like it would be a while before she could start spreading delicious gossip again.

"Speak to this Luke ourselves," answered the other schoolgirl, bold as brass as a chime signalling a visitor sounded.

"I don't think that'd work," said Haruna, standing up and walking over to the door. "He seems to be a very hard person to get answers from. Even his employer couldn't tell me much," she added opening the door. "Yes?"

"Pizza delivery," was her answer. Haurna stared in surprise before turning to Asakura.

"Oh yeah, I got hungry so ordered some," replied the reporter, flashing the manga artist a smile. "You can have some too if you want. Anyway, how much is that?"

"1,600 yen," supplied the delivery man, moving past Haruna into the apartment, balancing the delivery on one arm whilst reading a note he held in his other hand. "Kazumi Asakura right?"

"Yep, that/s me," said the redhead, pulling out the money from her wallet. "Just leave it here will you?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, laying down the pizza on the desk and taking the bills from her hand, quickly counting them. In the meantime, Haruna had already opened the box and was thoughtfully chewing on a slice.

"So now what?" she asked, turning to Kazumi as the delivery man tilted his cap in thanks to the two girls and made for the door.

"We go to that store we were at earlier and await Luke's arrival. Then we interrogate him for all the information we need!" she revealed triumphantly.

The manga artist clapped her hands together mischievously. "And if he won't talk? We can make him right?" she suggested, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Erm…yes…" answered Kazumi, not quite sure what to make of her classmate's behaviour. She reached for a slice of pizza herself as she continued, "Once we know exactly what his relationship is with Kaede, we will proceed from there, and…"

"Huh? Kazumi, what's wrong?" queried Haruna, looking at her friend from an angle, as if it would help her puzzle out the problem. The reporter didn't answer, but stood up suddenly and stared at the door. "Um, what is it?" asked Haruna once more.

"He took it!" burst ot the reporter, runnig to the door and hurling it open. "Damn him!"

"What?!"

"The disc! He must've taken it when he put the pizza down! He's good!" explained the reporter, running off down the hallway, the manga-ka in pursuit.

Silence fell on the hallway as the door to the dormitory swung shut, but was stopped in the last moment by an outstretched hand. For if the girls had deigned to look up when leaving the room, they would have noticed the delivery man up above, bracing himself against the two walls of the hallway. Now he dropped down and slipped into the dorm, closing the door silently behind him.

He strode over to the PC, still turned on and searching for data, and input several commands. Here was a moment before the screen buzzed in response as all data was wiped from the hard drive. The figures golden yellow eyes flickered in satisfaction before the disc he stole appeared in his hand.

To be reduced to common thievery…after all he'd done, it was almost an insult. But then again, when near the end, everything that came before becomes insignificant. Idly he took a slice of pizza for himself as he clenched his fist and crushed the disc, stepping over to the window. He gazed out over the campus, one he hadn't seen or woven about for a long time. His part in the plan was done. Now it was time to see if the boy could fulfil his.

* * *

"Information gathering sequence…initiated," rasped Seeker, his eyes going out as all energy was transferred to the connection and the search. Faint green numbers could be seen scrolling in the black orbs set deep into his metallic head. In his mind's eye, pages and pages worth of information regarding Mahora flew past, firewalls dissolving under his brutal attack as he broke in to various data stores to find what he needed.

Not for him the slow and methodical hunt, that of a detective and a thief. No, he was a hunter of big and dangerous game, someone who went out to take down bears with nought but a spear. The sheer processing power of his CPU overloaded several connections world wide at the same time, causing a blackout in Shanghai, a continuous 911 call in Tokyo and the launching of a missile in America. No prince nor pauper was spared from his cybernetic onslaught.

He rarely used up so much energy whilst seeking his information, but this was an emergency. They had a mission to do at this place, and one of their number had fallen there. Plus this Inquisition going around…

Wait! Scroll back! Ctrl and F…There!

An image…no doubt it was Clockwork. Young man taken for questioning by the Inquisition it was captioned…but by who?

Search, search, always search. New data found, analyzing…

Poster: Albert Chamomille, Access Point: 137347.836.4890, Location: Mahora Academy

More data needed….broadening parameters…data found.

Notes and speculations appeared before Seeker's face. He read them swiftly before assimilating it all within a second, his enhanced brain stem manipulating the information into electric pulses sent directly to areas of his barin concerning the topics.

And he blinked, stupefied. He read it again. And once more blinked.

A scraping sound filled the chamber, that of two sheets of corrugated iron being dragged across one another. Next door, Maiden looked up from her book.

"What's cyber-bro laughing at?" she asked curiously, looking at the others in the room with her. Navigator ignored her and continued administrating a healing salve to his scarred hand, leaving it to Muse to answer.

"Who knows what that cog-boy finds funny," he said simply.

Back in his chamber, Seeker stopped laughing, his leering face split wide with a grin revealing his metallic fangs. His mind manipulated the information and set the specially crafted program to work. The motto was true

The Inquisition did not exist.


End file.
